


Assurance

by nicpic



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, M/M, Minor Injuries, Multi, POV Jean, Post-Canon, but it's off screen, very very minor angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27000991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicpic/pseuds/nicpic
Summary: “Officer?” His voice is deep, Revacholian accent tinting the cadence with smoke and stone and heavy wind. He nudges you with his right hand. Your heart beats faster.aka jean is gay for kim; what else could you possibly want
Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi/Jean Vicquemare, Kim Kitsuragi/Jean Vicquemare, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Assurance

The Lieutenant would, quite fucking frankly, risk his life for just about anybody, as long as he saw it as part of his duty as an officer of the RCM. It isn’t surprising when he does so; it is something that you and Harry have come to expect of him.

So you don’t know why he’s looking at you like that. As if you’d done anything of note at all. Pain shoots up your right shoulder. Fuck, that hurts.

You prop yourself up a bit more comfortably. You don’t envy the guy who’ll have to clean the blood off of the white plaster wall you’re sitting against. Kitsuragi shifts with you, kneeling on the hard tile floor: positioned so that his knees sandwich your right leg. He redoubles the pressure on the wound with his left hand, the other buried into your chest for better leverage. Under his fingers, your tired pulse perseveres, the dregs of adrenaline already fading into latent arteries, escaping out into grey air. It skips a beat at the added force. Kitsuragi’s brow furrows in silent apology. Soft orange, afternoon light filters lazily through the open windows, sluggishly sweeping dust particles on the ground below, adding a slight luminescence to the Lieutenant’s bomber jacket.

The gunner groans against the chunk of concrete and rebar he’s handcuffed to outside. He probably won’t be up for quite a bit; Harry knocked him out pretty fucking thoroughly, powered by— fear? You couldn’t really tell. Right now he’s probably running towards the Kineema, a few kilometers away.

Kitsuragi speaks. “...That was a dangerous move, officer.” You grunt. Dangerous your ass. The gun was pointed squarely at his chest. If you hadn’t jumped in— well, no use in imagining it.

“I wear a vest, Kitsuragi.” You tap the top of the hand pressed into your heart: a constant confirmation that you are, in fact, alive. He nods, shakily. The body armor is fairly lightweight, but you’re pretty sure it would’ve held up against the low-caliber pistolette the other man was hauling. 

He looks pointedly at the bullet wound in your shoulder, unprotected by the armor. You chuckle. You’ll be fine; the graze wasn’t that deep.

After a moment of silence, Kim speaks. “Officer, thank you, though I don’t recommend such risky—”

You wave off his concern. He thinks he should’ve been the one shot, the idiot. 

As time ticks by, Kitsuragi wordlessly leans closer. You’re sharing each breath now. Kim’s grimace grows deeper every time it stutters from the pain. You try to breathe more evenly, to not worry him, but that only makes things worse. You cough to the side; you feel your chest spasm against his fingers.

“Breathe normally, Jean,” he orders. You nod, wiping your mouth on the unruined shoulder of your uniform. “Are you okay?”

You look back up. “Yeah, I—” God, his face is *so* close to yours. You stare. The sunlight is a bit stronger now, shining behind the Lieutenant, encompassing him in a radiant aura. Your eyes flick down his face and linger a bit too long on his mouth. 

“Officer?” His voice is deep, Revacholian accent tinting the cadence with smoke and stone and heavy wind. He nudges you with his right hand. Your heart beats faster. He repeats himself. “Are you—”

“Yep. Totally fucking fine.” You are suddenly hyper-aware of his hands on you. He raises an eyebrow. You try to not think about it. It only serves to quicken your pulse even more.

Kitsuragi notices. Of course he does; his right hand is right fucking there. “Jean,” he murmurs with a considerable amount of concern. “Breathe, officer.” Shit, he thinks you’re having a panic attack. You might be; you don’t know. He takes his hands off of you for a moment to shrug off his jacket. He drapes it over you, making sure to leave room for him to continue pressing on the wound unhindered. He resumes his previous position, but even closer, trying to comfort you through shared body heat. He’s centimeters away, peering into your eyes. 

Ah, fuck it. Heart pounding in your ears, shoving itself fervently into the Lieutenant’s palm, you tilt your head and close the distance, until your lips meet his. You draw back, gauging his reaction. He’s frozen solid.

You sigh. “...Sorry, this isn’t the right time—” You’re cut off as two gloved hands frantically grip the side of your face and pull you in, desperation edging each breath and movement. He was really fucking worried, wasn’t he? Oh, fuck. Oh— his mouth locks on yours, and suddenly you’re rid of all thought: your world is him, and his world is you. He tastes like mint and oranges. A second to catch a hasty breath, then you’re together again.

You break off, wheezing. Kitsuragi pants beside you, runs a hand against his mouth. He’s sitting in your lap perpendicular with you, torso twisted so that his chest is pressed to yours. His heart is beating as fast, if not faster, vibrations separated only by thin, inconsequential layers of cloth.

“I thought,” he whispers roughly. Pauses, gathers himself. “I thought, when you fell over, he had shot you in the head.”

Oh. Yeah, your vest wouldn't help with that. That explains the distress with which both Harry and Kim suppressed the attacker, up until the point Harry had finally set eyes on the graze and hurriedly showed Kim where it was. You reach up and caress the conjunction between his neck and shoulder. “It turned out okay, Kim.” He leans into the touch.

“Well.” 

Kim nearly falls on his ass in his effort to spring away from you. You swivel to determine the source of the third voice. Harry props himself on the doorway, smirking that fucking shit-eating grin. How the fuck did you both not notice the sound of the Kineema parking outside? Was he silently watching you the entire fucking time?!

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Got room for one more?”

You laugh so hard your wound starts bleeding again, Kim’s ears blazing inferno beside you. He pushes up his glasses. “...Not right now, detective. The officer is bleeding out.”

  
“But you were literally just—”

“That’s irrelevant.” He turns and flashes a smile only you can see. “Let’s go.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated :)


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